


Not Miserable

by BillieShears



Category: Nothing Much to Do
Genre: F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-31
Updated: 2014-08-31
Packaged: 2018-02-15 13:48:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2231355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BillieShears/pseuds/BillieShears
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enlisting her least favorite person at Messina High to fake date her was absolutely not how Beatrice had envisioned her night going.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Miserable

**Author's Note:**

> Apparently, vlog adaptations of classics are my soft spot. Who knew? Canon through the Love Gods video, then it takes a pretty sharp turn away from canon beyond that.

Enlisting her least favorite person at Messina High to fake date her was absolutely _not_ how Beatrice had envisioned her night going. But when she saw the video Ursula had posted ( _what_? Yes, she swore she’d never watch another video of Hero and Claudio pawing at each other, but everyone had been acting so _weird_ lately, she had to find out why), she’d driven to his house without even thinking.

She pounded on his door, her hand going nearly numb from the force. When he finally answered it, he was surprised, to say the least.

“Beatrice?”

“They’re playing us, dickface,” She snarled, storming past him.

“What?” He followed her inside, frowning, “who?”

“ _Everyone_.” She handed him her phone, already queued up. “Apparently, we’re some big joke to them. _Apparently_ we’ll be convinced to date just because they tell us not to. Like we’re _children,_ who’d fall for reverse psychology or something.”

Ben watched the video in silence – their friends, proclaiming themselves ‘Love Gods’, calling them Team Blessed, hatching their plan. His face burned when he thought of the conversation he’d overheard the boys having, a rush of shame and embarrassment settling at the pit of his stomach.

“Why would they do that?” He asked, hurt. Then, remembering that this was _Beatrice_ of all people, he amended: “Why would they even _think_ that? It’s stupid! It’s – it’s completely unwarranted. We need to drive over there right now and –”

“Tell them we’re dating,” Beatrice declared definitively, “We need to tell them all that we’re dating. Let them think that they’re right.”

“O-kay,” Ben said slowly, brows knitted together, studying Beatrice carefully, “Forgive me if I’m being thick, but how does telling them we’re dating and letting them think they were right solve anything?”

“We pretend to date, do the dopey love bird thing for a bit, let them preen and gloat and brag about how they knew all along, and _then_ we tell them we knew all about their plan and that we’ve been faking it the whole time,” She explained, rolling her eyes as though it were an obvious solution. “We show them that they can’t _really_ force anyone together just because they want to. They can’t just play cupid and dictate people’s lives. They need to be taught a lesson.”

“Right,” Ben nodded, on board now, “They can’t just parade around telling people what to do. I’m game. So – how long do we keep this up for? A couple of days, a week?”

Beatrice paused, calculating something in her head. She glanced over at Ben, skeptical.

“How do you feel about two months?”

“Two _months?_ Are you crazy?” He boggled, “We already can’t stand each other. We’re barely friends. You want to make googoo eyes for _two months_?”

“It’ll be Hero’s birthday party in two months. That’s the best time to reveal that we knew the whole time. We have to make them really believe it, you know?” Beatrice was adamant. “Besides, not like it’ll be hard. Hero and Claud make it look simple enough.” Ben considered for a moment.

“That’s true,” He agreed, “I’d just have to stare at you all through lunch, smiling at you like an idiot, glare at anyone who accidentally bumps into you, and take you to the movies on Friday nights.”

“Hey,” She poked him, hard, “ _I_ can take _you_ to the movies, too. Independent woman over here. Equality.”

“Fine, we’ll _alternate_ ,” He acquiesced, rubbing his chest where she’d poked him. “So. We’re really doing this, then?”

“Obviously,” She snorted. Then, just for good measure, she added: “dickface.”

“What do we tell them happened? You came over here, throwing yourself at me? Crying, _‘oh, Benedick, I just can’t fight this feeling anymore!’ ‘oh, Benedick, I can’t resist your cunning wit and stupidly handsome face!’_? Because that’s sort of what’s happening here, you know.”

“Oh, please, don’t make me sick, jerk,” She snapped, “That is _not_ what’s happening here, and you know it.”

“All I know is, _you’re_ the one who came up with this fake dating plan. _You_ fake asked _me_ out.”

“We’ll tell them you kept asking me out, so I finally agreed because I felt bad for you. Then I realized you weren’t as much of a dickwad as I thought. That’s much more believable.” She nodded solemnly. “The only plausible story, really.”

“Absolutely, one-hundred-percent veto’d,” Ben shook his head vehemently. “No way. Completely unlikely. And no one will believe you, since it implies you had a shred of empathy for someone.”

Beatrice’s jaw dropped, horrified.

“I happen to be extremely empathetic to people who _deserve_ it!”

After much debate, they finally settled on a story just vague enough to work: they’d started studying for physics together, one thing led to another, and it just _happened._ (“It just _happened_ ” was something Bea picked up from Hero, as though handsome boys just dropped from the sky and started dating you out of nowhere.)

They agreed to tell their friends separately – the so-called Team Love Gods could wait until school the next day to see the results of their interference.

“Alright,” Beatrice said stiffly, rising from the couch, “Well. I’ll see you in school tomorrow. As my boyfriend.”

“Should I meet you by your locker? Is that the boyfriend-y thing to do?” He followed her to the door.

“Um… okay,” She shrugged, self-conscious, “Yeah, sure. That’s a boyfriend thing to do.”

“Alright then. See you tomorrow.” He paused. “…Sweetheart.” Bea winced.

“This is so weird,” She mumbled, rushing out the door.

-

Beatrice strolled into the kitchen, dropping her car keys in a bowl on the table. Hero looked up from where she sat at the counter, homework forgotten.

“Bea! You ran off so suddenly earlier. Is everything okay?”

“Yup.” Beatrice sat down next to her, propping her feet up on a third stool, cracking open a soda. “So. Dickface and I are dating now.”

Hero’s eyes widened, grinning almost manically.

“What?” She asked, “You mean –”

“Me and Ben,” Beatrice nodded, “We’re together. An item. We’re… dating. Whoopee, love is real.” She twirled her finger lazily, sneering into her drink.

“But you’re still calling him Dickface,” Hero pointed out, smile dimming. Then something dawned on her, and the smile was back and even bigger than before. “I _knew_ it was a term of endearment.”

Beatrice’s fist clenched so tightly it dented the can.

-

Hero giggled – giggled! – when she saw Ben waiting by Bea’s locker the next morning. What’s worse, she had the audacity to ‘aww’ _out loud_ when he hugged her, despite how completely weird it was. (They couldn’t figure out where to put their arms, or how long to hold the hug for, and it ended with him awkwardly patting her back.)

“Ho-ly-shit.” Meg came up behind them, shaking her head and smirking, “I didn’t believe Hero’s text, but apparently it’s true! You guys are totally a thing.”

“Yep,” Ben said brightly, grabbing Bea’s books, “it’s happening. That is a fact.”

“Hey!” Bea grabbed her books back, clutching them to her chest possessively, “Just because we’re dating doesn’t mean I’m suddenly too weak to carry my own books.”

“Same old Bea,” Hero said fondly, grinning at Meg. Ben was undeterred.

“Right. Walk you to your class, then, love?” He offered. Beatrice sighed.

“I’ll walk you to yours,” She relented. “You’re more likely to get lost.”

-

Lunch was positively miserable. Claudio and Hero kept exchanging knowing looks, Pedro kept smiling at them like some weirdly proud parent, and Meg and Ursula wouldn’t stop smirking. When Benedick came back from the lunch line with an ice cream for her and Pedro had the nerve to say _“aren’t they adorable?”_ , Beatrice lost it.

“Would you stop?” She snarled fiercely, “It’s not like we’re the first people on earth to start dating. It’s ice cream, not a wedding ring!”

“Though that’s probably only a matter of time,” Ursula whispered to Hero under her breath, earning herself a mighty glare from Bea.

“You’re right, you’re right. We’ll leave you alone,” Pedro held up his hands, a truce. “ _If_ you admit one thing.”

“What?” She asked, eyes narrowed, suspicious. Pedro had to bite his lip to keep from smiling too wide.

“You have to admit that you were wrong about Ben.”

“Ah!” Benedick smiled, looking to Beatrice expectantly, “That sounds fair enough, doesn’t it, darling?”

Instead, the rest of her ice cream wound up on his head. The last thing she heard from the table as she stormed off was Ben saying, _“poor thing can’t help it, she’s crazy about me”_.

-

After cleaning up, he found her in the parking lot, sitting on the back of her car, hunched over and brooding.

“As far as convincing everyone we’re dating goes, I don’t think dumping ice cream on my head is helping.”

She didn’t look up.

“Can I sit?” He asked. She didn’t say anything, but she moved over. He hoisted himself up next to her, leaning back against her rear windshield.

“I’m sorry about the ice cream in your hair,” She said, finally, after what felt like a lifetime of silence. “I just… don’t like being told I was wrong. Especially when I’m _not_.”

“I know you don’t,” He said, “But they don’t know we’re pretending, remember? I thought you said the whole point of this was to make them think they’re right.”

“I know,” She mumbled, “It _is_.”

“Listen, Bea…” He hesitated. “If you want to call this whole thing off, we can. You’re the one who wanted to do it in the first place. We can end this whenever you want.”

“Do _you_ want to end it?” She asked, turning to look at him over her shoulder. “You keep saying it was my idea. Well, you agreed to it. We can end this whenever _you_ want, too, you know.”

“No,” He said, perhaps a little too quickly, “No, I don’t want to end this. I said I was game, remember?”

“Good,” She nodded, “I’m still game, too.”

“And I’m not saying we have to completely change how we act around each other,” He assured her, “I just think, maybe, we should avoid throwing food at each other? At least make it seem like we’re not _completely_ miserable to be together?”

Beatrice couldn’t help it – she laughed.

“I’m not _completely_ miserable with you.” She leaned back so she was side by side with Benedick, staring up at the clouds. He glanced over at her, a smile forming.

“Good,” He said.

-

When Hero found them, they were still sitting there, on the back of Bea’s car, completely asleep. Bea’s head had fallen onto Ben’s shoulder, and his arm had curled around her. Hero dug through her purse for her cellphone, snapping a picture and texting it to Claudio.

“Much cuter than lunch,” She declared, tucking her phone away, loud enough to rouse them from their nap.

“What happened?” Beatrice asked, still groggy. She glanced at Ben, and immediately scrambled up, nearly falling off of the car. She slid off ungracefully, instinctively putting as much distance between them as she could.

“Did we seriously sleep through the rest of classes?” Ben asked, glancing at his watch. “Oh, man, wasn’t that history test today? I’m dead.”

“I can’t believe the rest of us spent our whole days worrying about you after the way you stormed off at lunch, and you’ve just been napping in the sun!” Hero chided, “We thought you’d broken up already.”

“What, over ice cream?” Ben laughed her off. “I’ll be enduring much more torment from Beatrice, I’m sure.”

“I’m sure,” Hero agreed, laughing. “Oh! You better get to practice, Ben, it’ll be starting soon. Claud and Pedro were just headed there now.”

“Good idea,” Ben jumped off the car, and bent into some sort of half-bow, taking Beatrice’s hand in his own and kissing it. “Til later, darling. I’ll call you after practice?”

She blushed, pulling her hand away. He glanced at her expectantly, eyes flickering towards Hero.

“Yeah,” She said, “Do that.”

Just as he was about to turn to go, she grabbed his hand and tugged him back, kissing his cheek clumsily. He paused, caught off guard, and smiled.

“Right then. See you tomorrow, Hero!” He bounced a little on the balls of his feet, then took off in the direction of the football pitch.

Hero was grinning to beat the band.

“You two are so –”

“Oh, shut up, will you?” Bea’s face was bright red as she reached for her keys, taking refuge in her car. Hero slid into the passenger’s seat beside her, undeterred.

“It’s always a bit awkward in the beginning, isn’t it?” She sympathized, patting Beatrice’s hand. She groaned in response, dropping her head against the steering wheel. “I’m sorry if we’re all being a bit overwhelming about the whole thing – we’re just so happy for you two, is all. We love you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Bea sighed, starting up the car. “I love you too. I just don’t love my personal life being gawked at –”

“Bea,” Hero chastised gently, “come on. Your hobby is vlogging.”

“But that’s different!” Beatrice insisted, “it’s what I choose to put out there.”

“Are you going to put you and Ben out there?” Hero asked. Beatrice fell silent. She hadn’t even considered it, honestly. Their vlogs hadn’t even crossed her mind since they started this whole thing.

“I dunno. Maybe.”

“I think it’d be cute,” Hero insisted, “and your viewers should know about your change of heart! It’d be so sweet, the two of you uploading a vlog together.”

“We’ll see.” Her tone made it clear the conversation was over. “So. Did I miss anything good while I was napping?”

-

The rest of the week at school was – better. Lunch became decidedly less awkward after that first day, and they got by with marginal physical contact. An arm around a shoulder here, a stray compliment there, and absolutely _minimal_ hand-holding. Beatrice even brought Ben a cupcake (at Hero’s urging) to make up for the ice cream incident. When he thanked her profusely and kissed her cheek in front of everyone, her face had burned, and she’d buried her head in her arms. But when he rested his hand on her knee under the table, she didn’t pull away.

-

Bea couldn’t bring herself to vlog about the whole thing just yet (and she wasn’t sure if Ben had – she still wasn’t watching those), so on Wednesday she let Hero take over and do a video herself: a tutorial on how to make a simple circle skirt.

-

 _SOS,_ Beatrice texted him on Friday morning, _Hero’s talking about going on a double date with her and Claudio tonight. Like, dinner and a movie level double date_.

 _Okay,_ he texted back, _which part is the “SOS” part?_

_Um, THEM, obviously. It’s bad enough watching them fawn all over each other at lunch or in my own home, but now I have to spend a whole evening with it? Ugh._

_We’ll make it fun,_ he promised. _I’m a master of fun._

_You’d better be, dickface. And don’t think you’re paying for my movie ticket._

_I know, I know. Equality. I’ll buy dinner if you buy the movie tickets, alright?_

_Fine. See you in history, dickface._

-

Of course Hero insisted on dressing her up for their date. _Of course_. She also offered to do her hair and makeup, but Bea drew the line at choosing her outfit.

“It’s just dinner and a movie. And it’s _Benedick_.”

“Exactly.” Hero hummed to herself, flicking through her closet. “Found it!” She withdrew a forest green dress, and tossed it to her cousin. “It’ll look so great on you. It’d look even better if you let me do your hair.”

“Don’t get your hopes up,” Beatrice said, tugging off her t-shirt and yanking the dress over her head. She danced out of her jeans, kicking them aside, adjusting the dress so it hung properly. “Alright. Do I get the Hero stamp of approval?”

“You look beautiful! Keep the dress, it looks better on you than me,” Hero insisted. “But you’d get a _bigger_ stamp of approval if you’d just let me put some mascara on you. Please, Bea, just a little! I promise I’ll make it look natural. He won’t even know you’re wearing make-up, he’ll just think you look _extra_ good.”

Beatrice frowned, ready to deny her, but if there was one thing she’d learned over the years, it was this: it is impossible – fully impossible – to resist the Hero Duke Doe Eyes (Trademark Pending).

“Oh, _fine_ ,” She relented, stamping her feet all the way to the chair on the other side of the room. She threw her hands up in defeat. “But just a _little_. Less than what you’d even wear to school. Swear?”

“Swear,” Hero said solemnly, hand over her heart.

-

When Leo let Benedick and Claudio in, he handed them each a soda and told them to make themselves comfortable.

“They’ve been up there for hours, giggling like little kids,” He confided, leading them into the living room. When they sat on the couch, he sat down across from them, suddenly very serious. “Look, I know you guys. I know you’re _good_ guys. I don’t have to tell you to treat them well, do I?”

“You’ve already given me that speech, Leo,” Claudio reminded him good-naturedly. “You know I’d never hurt Hero.”

“I know you wouldn’t, mate,” He agreed. He turned his attention to Benedick. “What about you?”

“Please,” Ben snorted, “I think if I ever did anything to hurt Bea, she’d kill me before anyone else ever got the chance to.”

At this, Leo had to laugh.

“Fair enough,” He said. “Just make sure they’re home before one, alright? And in their beds _alone_.”

“Sir, yes, sir,” Ben saluted.

“Will do,” Claudio promised.

“Good. I’ll go tell them to hurry it up.”

When Leo had disappeared, Claudio turned to Ben, shaking his head.

“I can’t believe that’s all he said to you. I got a whole _speech_ about Hero’s virtue.”

“To be fair, Hero is way less likely to serve your head up on a silver platter if you ever wronged her,” Ben pointed out. “Need I remind you of the ice cream incident? I hadn’t even _done_ anything yet. And besides, Hero’s his baby sister. Bea’s just his cousin. It’s different.”

“I still can’t believe she dumped the ice cream on your head,” Claudio laughed, “I only wish I’d gotten a picture before you cleaned yourself off.”

“Yeah, well, she’s definitely feisty,” Ben shrugged. “That’s what I like about her.”

“Attention please, boys,” Hero appeared in the doorway, hands clasped over her chest, rocking up onto her tiptoes. She cleared her throat. “Presenting the lovely, the intelligent, the _wonderful_ Miss Beatrice Duke.”

“I _cannot believe_ you’re doing this,” Came Beatrice’s distressed protest, from somewhere in the other room.

“Just come on out here and let them see you,” Hero encouraged. “You look lovely and you know it!”

When she still didn’t come out on her own, Hero disappeared around the corner. There were a few whispered words, then Beatrice was being pushed through the doorway. She hugged her arms around herself awkwardly, refusing to make eye contact. Both Ben and Claudio stood when the girls entered the room, Claudio immediately crossing to give Hero a kiss and take her arm.

“Very pretty, Bea,” He complimented, then turned back to Hero, kissing her again, “the second loveliest girl in the room.”

Ben didn’t say anything at all, which she appreciated. Instead, he simply reached for her hand. Eyes still glued to the floor, she took it.

“ _First_ loveliest,” He whispered, only loud enough for her to hear. She glanced up, surprised. He gave her hand the slightest squeeze, and she started to smile.

“Ready to go?” Claudio asked.

“Absolutely,” Ben withdrew his keys from his pocket. “Ladies, Claudio, to the Benmobile!”

-

Dinner was decent enough – the four of them spent the better part of it debating which super power would be the best to have. Beatrice was adamant that it was teleportation – “if we’re talking in terms of convenience, then teleportation _obviously_ wins, no question!” - but Ben felt that telepathy was the clear winner; while Hero just thought it would be nice to control the weather, and Claudio opted for flight (which both Bea and Ben dismissed as boring, predictable, and no fun at all). When Beatrice didn’t like the meal she’d chosen, Benedick split his in half without a second thought and handed it off to her. (Hero and Claudio managed not to comment on this, instead only exchanging secret smiles, much to Bea’s relief.)

At the movie, Ben put an arm around Bea, and to his surprise (and her own), she wound up resting her head on his shoulder.

Afterwards, Ben drove them all home. Claudio and Hero got out of the car so he could walk her to the door, but Bea opted to stay back, allowing them a moment to say goodbye in private.

“We’re getting pretty good at this fake dating thing, I’d say,” Benedick noted, once they were safely alone.

“Considering they can’t shut up about how ‘cute’ we are, I’d agree,” Beatrice glanced out the window, but upon seeing Claudio and Hero making out on the porch, she immediately turned away again. “They’re positively disgusting.”

“Gross,” Ben made a face, “how are they breathing? Have we seen them come up for air yet? Should we be concerned?”

“If Claudio’s not back in the car in two minutes, I’ll go interrupt them. For their own safety.” Beatrice pulled at the sleeve of her dress, suddenly extremely aware of how alone she and Ben were. “Thanks for paying for dinner, by the way.”

“Thanks for paying for the movie,” He replied. He opened his mouth to speak again, but then seemed to think better of it.

“What?” She asked. When he didn’t say anything, she demanded again, “What? What were you gonna say?”

“Just that I meant what I said earlier, about you looking pretty. You look very pretty tonight.” He was very pointedly not looking at her.

“Oh.” Beatrice, too, was looking anywhere but at Ben. “Thanks. It was all – it was Hero.”

“Oh.”

“You look nice, too. You, uh. You clean up nice.”

“Beatrice –” He was looking at her again, and it was too much for her.

“Their two minutes are up,” She announced, throwing the door open and practically launching herself from the vehicle, “I’m gonna put a stop to this. Goodnight!”

-

The next morning, Meg texted them saying her parents were out of town, so of course she was throwing a party. Initially, Beatrice was set against it – the last time their friends had thrown a party, it hadn’t gone very well for anyone – but Meg wouldn’t take no for an answer. This time, though, she wouldn’t let Hero dress her up or put make up on her or do her hair – she was going in her own clothes, and that was final.

Meg had also told everyone who was invited – just their core group of friends, thankfully – that they were all welcome to sleepover. Ben texted Bea asking if she wanted to ride over with him, but she’d already promised Ursula a ride, so she texted back saying she’d just see him at the party.

By the time she showed up at Meg’s, with Hero and Ursula in tow, the rest of their friends had already arrived and begun drinking. Well, most had – Ben didn’t seem to be, and she knew Claudio wasn’t. According to Hero, he had family coming to town the next morning, so he couldn’t spend the night. Beatrice immediately noticed Meg was sitting in Robbie’s lap, and she scowled – she’d never liked him, and she could never keep track of whether or not he and Meg were together. Though, judging by his presence at the party and Meg’s choice of seat, things were back on.

Benedick spotted her first and slid over on the couch, patting the seat next to him.

“Are you not drinking tonight?” She asked, instead of sitting.

“I was waiting for you,” He admitted, and that made her squirm, so she fled for the kitchen. Ursula followed.

“Are you mad at him again?” She asked casually, grabbing herself a bottle of water. (Ursula made it a point to never drink at parties. A party, she’d explained to a very exasperated Meg on previous occasions, was anything more than four people.)

“What? No,” Bea dismissed, frowning. She grabbed a beer from the fridge, reaching for the bottle opener. “What makes you say that?”

“You didn’t even say hello to him,” Ursula shrugged. “Anytime he does something nice for you, you freak.”

“I _do not_.”

“I mean, I get it,” Ursula said, “Usually you’re always picking on each other. So this is different for you guys.” Bea was slack-jawed.

“We don’t just pick on each other all the time. Sometimes we’re nice!” She protested. Ursula considered this.

“I guess I just mean picking on each other is how you two flirt,” She reasoned, “so it’s weird when you’re not doing that. For the rest of us and also for you, apparently.”

“You lot are entirely too invested in us,” Bea declared, snatching a second beer and heading back to the living room. She plopped down next to Ben and unceremoniously shoved the beer at him without a word.

“For me?” He asked, taken aback.

“Don’t sound so surprised,” She said, “You said you were waiting for me and now I’m here. I was in the kitchen anyway. It’s not a big deal.”

“See?” Said Ursula, “It’s weird when you’re nice to each other.”

-

An hour later, they’d ordered pizza and were sitting in a circle on Meg’s floor, practically inhaling it. They ordered four different kinds, since no one could agree – Hero and Bea wanted a veggie lovers, whereas Ben and Balthazar were pushing for a Hawaiian pizza. Meg wanted a meat lovers (which begged for a joke that no one let slip by unnoticed), Claudio and Pedro wanted classic pepperoni, and Ursula and Robbie were adamant that they didn’t care _what_ kind of pizza it was, they just wanted to eat.

Just twenty minutes after it had arrived, it was already gone. Bea lay sprawled on the floor, clutching her stomach and groaning.

“I can’t believe you guys let me eat so much pizza,” She accused. “I feel so disgusting.”

“It was very impressive,” Pedro praised, “We couldn’t have stopped you even if we wanted to. You were in the zone.”

“It was awe-inspiring, really,” Balthazar agreed.

“I’m disgusting,” Bea declared, rolling onto her side.

“Oh, come on,” Ben waved her off, “You’re not disgusting. You’re very pretty.”

“Shut up,” Beatrice sat up, rolling her eyes, “you only thought I was pretty when Hero dressed me up and did my makeup.”

“I think you’re pretty all the time,” Ben corrected, “I just don’t tell you because you’d tell me to shut up.”

Beatrice didn’t know what to say to that, so she shoved him.

“You two are so cute I could scream,” Meg said, grinning wickedly. She leaned into Beatrice and stage-whispered, “Hey, Bea, have you gotten the Bene _dick_ yet?”

“Oh my _God._ ” Beatrice jumped to her feet, “You guys are the worst. The literal worst!”

When she ran from the room, Ben was behind her in a matter of seconds. He caught up with her in the garage, which was dark except for the glow of the streetlight, barely coming in through the open door.

“Don’t let Meg get to you,” He said, leaning against the wall next to her. “She’s always over the top. It’s why we like her, usually.”

“It’s not just her. It’s everybody. Ursula was being weird earlier, too. They all just –” She paused to take a breath and collect herself. “I don’t like being the center of attention unless I’m in complete control of the situation. When I’m vlogging, I can turn the camera off whenever I want. I can choose what I upload. That way, I’m choosing when people pay attention to me, and why. I don’t like not being in control of this, I don’t like how they act like we’re – like we’re adorable puppies, or something.”

“I’m sorry,” Ben bumped her with his shoulder, “I was just trying to think of what a _real_ boyfriend would say if his _real_ girlfriend said she felt disgusting. If it helps, I’ll never call you pretty in front of them again. I promise.”

“Perfect,” She laughed, “Just what every girl dreams of - their fake boyfriend vowing never to call her pretty again.”

“Bea?” Pedro called from the driveway, heading for the garage, “Ben? Are you guys in there? If you’re fighting again, Balth owes me money, so –”

“Now they’re making _bets_?” Bea hissed under her breath, “They think they know everything.”

When the sensory-lights in the driveway came on and flooded the garage in yellow light, Bea did the only thing she could think of that would both prove Pedro wrong and get him to leave them alone: she kissed Ben. Quite enthusiastically. She slid her arms around his neck, hopped onto her tip-toes, pressed herself against him, and just went for it. After a moment of shock, Ben responded in kind, backing her against the garage wall, taking her face in his hands.

“Yikes,” Pedro said, backing away immediately, “Guess I owe Balth money now. Sorry, guys. Carry on.”

“Wow,” Ben managed to squeak out, when the kiss ended and Pedro had gone and the automatic light had shut off again, “That was –”

“Don’t even start,” She warned. “I just didn’t want them thinking they were right _again_ when they _weren’t_.”

“I’m just saying, objectively, that was a good kiss.” He held his hands up innocently. “I mean, you have to admit it was a good kiss. I’m a good kisser. A great one, even.”

“Oh my God,” She groaned, running a hand through her hair to try and smooth it out, “It takes two to kiss. If you think it was a good kiss, obviously that means I’m a good kisser, too.”

“Well, sure, you initiated it – and you were good, don’t get me wrong,” He assured her, “But I think we can both agree I was the MVP of that kiss.”

“You’re a menace,” She said, but she was laughing.

“Just admit it, Bea,” He nudged her with his elbow, waggling his brows, “That kiss rocked your world. It was the best kiss of your whole life.”

“Stop!”

-

“They’re going to make a big deal out of this, you know,” Ben told her, when they were ready to go back to the party.

“I know,” She sighed, resigned.

“You can’t storm out of the room this time,” He added. “So this is what we’ll do. I’ll hold your hand, and every time you get mad, you can just squeeze it. I have a very impressive pain tolerance, so don’t be shy. And if you want to yell, you can just bury your face in my shoulder.”

“That’s –” Bea glanced up at him, surprised, “that’s actually a good idea.”

“Don’t sound so surprised,” He parroted back at her. “Alright. Ready?”

“Ready.”

They went in, rejoining the others in the living room. Bea took his hand preemptively.

“There are the lovebirds,” Pedro greeted, “we thought we’d lost you for the night.”

“Sorry about that,” Ben apologized for the both of them, taking a seat on the couch, “just had to step out and get some air.”

“Is that what they’re calling it these days,” Robbie snickered. Bea clenched Ben’s hand.

“Well, I happen to think it’s sweet,” Hero defended, beaming happily at her cousin, “They’re very sweet together.”

Bea was holding his hand so tightly now, her knuckles had gone white. Ben reached over and forced her to switch hands, fearing that she might break his.

“We thought about playing a party game like seven minutes in heaven or something while you were gone,” Meg winked, “but you guys had already beaten us to the punch, it seems.”

It took all Bea’s strength to remember the plan and bury her head in Ben’s shoulder, rather than scream.

“Wow, Bea,” Claudio admired, “I’ve never seen you speechless before. Must’ve been some kiss.”

She bit down on his shoulder to keep her mouth shut.

“ _Hey!_ ” He shouted. Everyone’s attention swiveled to him, concerned. “Uh – hey, hey, hey, everyone, who wants to play a game? Cards Against Humanity or something?”

“Oooh, I love that game,” Ursula said eagerly. “Let’s play. I’ll go get it. Is it still in your room, Meg?”

“Thanks,” Bea whispered into his shoulder.

“Don’t thank me,” He whispered back, “I only suggested it because I thought you were you gonna give me rabies or something.”

She swatted at him, but she didn’t let go of his hand.

-

Claudio had to leave the party a little after midnight, and he didn’t like the idea of Hero sleeping over without him, so he drove them both home after the third round of Cards Against Humanity. Somewhere after the fifth round (and a few more beers for those who were drinking), the rest of them started to get tired, so Meg delegated the sleeping arrangements. She and Robbie in her room, Ursula in her parents, Pedro and Balthazar on her brother’s bunk beds, and Ben and Bea in the guest room.

“Should I sleep on the floor?” Ben asked, when they were both alone and standing in their pajamas, staring at the full-sized bed. Beatrice studied the room, considering their options.

“No, you can sleep in the bed,” She determined, “we’ll just make a pillow barrier between us.”

“You bloody genius,” He commended, “What a smart fake-girlfriend I have.”

“It’s true, I’m a genius,” She agreed, setting to work creating the barrier. When she was satisfied with it, she crawled into her side of the bed, and he crawled into the other. “Well, goodnight, Ben.”

“Ben?” He asked, “Not ‘dickface’ or ‘dickwad’ or ‘idiot’?”

“Just Ben, this time.” She reached for the light, leaving them in darkness.

“Can I tell you something?” He whispered, feeling safer in the dark, lying on his back and looking up at the ceiling, “something I probably wouldn’t admit to if I wasn’t tired and a little drunk?”

“What?” She asked. She’d rolled away from him, and was staring at the wall.

“ _You_ were the MVP of that kiss earlier, not me.”

Beatrice was quiet for such a long time that Ben thought she’d fallen asleep.

“If I tell _you_ something that I wouldn’t normally admit,” she said quietly, “do you promise not to bring it up again when we’re fully awake and sober?”

“I promise.”

“I might’ve been the MVP of that kiss, but you’ve been the MVP of this whole fake relationship,” She said. “You’re a really good fake boyfriend.”

“Really?” He asked.

“I said it, didn’t I?”

“Thanks, Bea.”

“Whatever,” She said, and she buried herself under the blankets.

-

When Beatrice woke the next morning, she discovered the pillow barrier had failed. Most of them were on the floor, and she was curled into Benedick’s side, her head tucked under his chin and his arm wrapped loosely around her. She peeled herself away as gently as she could manage, collected her things, and slipped out of Meg’s house and into her car, waiting until the blush faded from her cheeks and the churning butterflies in her stomach slowed to a halt before driving home.

-

Once at home, she made a vlog that she had no intention of posting. She’d gotten used to hashing out her feelings in front of the camera – when she watched the footage again, everything always felt clearer to her. She made sure that she was alone – Leo was at the grocery store and Hero was meeting some of Claudio’s extended family. She didn’t want to risk anyone overhearing her, or barging in.

When she turned on the camera, she sat in silence for a few minutes, drumming her fingers on her desk and trying to figure out what to say.

“What do you do,” she finally began, “when you find yourself having… _feelings_ … for the last person on earth you ever expected to fall for? And yeah, maybe a couple years ago, you had feelings like this – _sort of_ like this – like, a _fraction_ of this – for that person. But then they changed, or rather you realized who they really were, so you didn’t feel that way anymore. You felt the opposite. You hated them, because they – rejected you? Thought they were better than you? Or just… didn’t feel the same, I guess.”

She gnawed at her lip.

“I mean, who do you talk to about it? Who _can_ you talk to about it? You can’t talk to anyone, because you had a boneheaded idea to _fake date_ this person, so everyone around you already thinks you’re together. It’s not like you can go up to your cousin, who you normally talk about everything with, and say ‘help, I’m having feelings for the person you already think is my boyfriend’!” She reached for a pillow, pressed her face into it, and yelled. “The whole point was to prove to everybody that we don’t actually have feelings for each other. And it’s not like I can talk about it with _Ben_. That’s just – that’s – I can’t even –” she pretended to gag, throwing up her hands, “that’s out of the question.”

The next three minutes of video wound up just being Bea staring glumly at the camera.

“I can’t believe this is only the first week of this,” She finally said, sighing. “Who was the idiot who suggested two months?”

She reached up and shut off the camera, flopping backwards onto her bed. Then, almost immediately, she scrambled back up and grabbed it – she needed to delete that footage, pronto. There could be no evidence of her admitting to liking Benedick – _Benedick_ , of all people.

“Bea, are you home?” Hero called from the stairs. Beatrice’s eyes widened, and she all but threw the camera to the other end of her bed.

“In my room,” She called, and Hero appeared in the doorway a moment later. “How long have you been here?”

“I just got in, actually. I’ve been out with Claudio’s family all morning. I met one of his Aunts and his Gram – she’s just the sweetest lady,” Hero gushed pleasantly, “they both are. We all went out to breakfast together, then we went out for a walk in the park. It was a really nice visit. How was the rest of Meg’s party?”

“Fine,” Beatrice gave a non-committal shrug, “Nothing special. We went to bed kind of soon after you guys left, then I left before anyone else woke up because I didn’t feel so hot.”

“Oh no,” Hero simpered, “are you alright? Do you want me to make you some tea or anything?”

“No, no, I’m fine,” Beatrice assured her, “Just had a little too much to drink last night, I think. I took an aspirin and I’ve been drinking lots of water, so I feel better now.”

“If you’re sure…” Hero said, regarding Bea carefully, “Well, I was going to whip up some brownies to bring over to Claud’s for dessert tonight - would you like to help me bake them?”

“If you’re asking if I’d like to lick the batter off the spoon when you’re done, I absolutely accept.”

-

**9:21am  
text from dickface to Beatrice**

_did you leave already?_

**9:25am  
text from Queen Margaret to Beatrice**

_Excuse me, bitch – Ben says you’re gone already???_

_Which is CRAZY because OBVIOUSLY you would’ve said goodbye to your beautiful and gracious party host before disappearing like a phantom, RIGHT???_

**9:57am  
text from dickface to Beatrice**

_you missed some DELICIOUS breakfast, courtesy of pedro. if nothing else, that guy can make a mean scrambled egg._

**10:04am  
missed call from Ursula**

**11:17am  
text from dickface to Beatrice**

_don’t tell me we’re fake breaking-up already?_

**1:52pm  
missed call from dickface**

**2:49pm  
text from dickface to Beatrice**

_if i did something to upset you, i’m sorry – but can you just text me to let me know that you’re at least alive?_

_and if you’re feeling super generous, maybe tell me why you’re mad at me, if you are? usually i have an idea, but this time i don’t have a clue_

**3:09pm  
text from dickface to Beatrice**

_last text i promise: if i don’t hear from you at least saying you’re alive by 4, i’m calling leo and organizing a search party. fair warning._

His last text came towards the end of her and Hero’s brownie-making endeavor, when she had been gleefully licking the chocolate batter off of the egg beaters and spatula. A combination of guilt and something she couldn’t quite pinpoint settled in her stomach, and she felt queasy again. She didn’t want him to worry, but she couldn’t even _think_ about facing him right now. But, clearly, if she didn’t say something, he was just going to beat down her door himself.

“Hm,” Hero frowned slightly at her phone, “Meg and Ursula have both texted me asking if I’ve seen you today – did you not tell them you weren’t feeling well?”

“Oh,” Beatrice tried her best to look innocent, “I meant to text them, but I wound up falling asleep for a while and completely forgot. Oops.”

“So forgetful,” Hero mock-chastised, shaking her head, “I’ll let them know you’re safe and sound and full of chocolate.”

Beatrice stared at her phone, trying to think of something to say.

“Hero,” She asked, picking at a spot of dried batter on the counter, “do you ever… _not_ want to see Claudio?”

“Not really,” Hero wrinkled her nose, smiling, “I’m always happy to see him. Why do you ask?”

“Just wondering,” She shrugged. Hero thought for a moment, placing the brownies in the oven and setting the timer.

“Actually,” She amended, “in the beginning, before we were dating, sometimes I’d hate seeing him. I mean, I loved it, at the same time. But not knowing for sure how he felt was so hard! It was like – and I know this sounds dramatic and you’re going to laugh at me, Bea – anytime I saw him, when I knew I liked him but didn’t know if he liked me, I felt like I was going to just die. So sometimes I’d avoid the lunch tables and go to the library instead, because the thought of spending another second with him as just a friend was practically torture.”

“Actually,” Beatrice said, meeting Hero’s gaze, “that doesn’t make me want to laugh at you at all.”

Hero smiled affectionately at her, then glanced at the clock, and jumped in surprise.

“Oh, I’ve got to start getting ready for dinner at Claud’s,” She cried, “I’m supposed to be there for four thirty. Can you keep an eye on the brownies?”

“I can, but I may eat them all the second they’re ready to come out of the oven,” Bea warned. “Hey, do you need a lift over there?”

“That would be so great,” Hero nodded eagerly, “would you mind?”

“Course not. Anything for you, dearest cousin,” Beatrice blew her a kiss, and Hero pretended to catch it and pin it to her heart before darting upstairs to change. Bea glanced back at her phone, sighing. She had to send him _something_ , otherwise he’d get Leo and the rest of them involved, and that was the last thing she wanted to deal with right now.

**3:46pm  
text from Bea! to Benedick**

_hey, sorry. i’m not dead. or mad at you. i just didn’t feel super great this morning and didn’t want to wake anyone._

**3:48pm  
text from dickface to Beatrice**

_glad to hear it._

_both the not-dead part and the not-mad-at-me part._

_i hear that boyfriend’s take care of girlfriend’s when they get sick. do you want me to come over? i can make you soup_

_i can’t promise it’ll be GOOD soup, but. still._

**3:52pm  
text from Bea! to Benedick**

_it’s okay. i’m not sick-sick. just a little hungover. i already feel loads better than this morning._

_thanks though_

**3:54pm  
text from dickface to Beatrice**

_okay. let me know if you change your mind._

_i really am glad you’re okay. i got nervous when you weren’t there this morning._

_we’re okay though?_

**3:58pm  
text from Bea! to Benedick**

_i’m sorry for freaking you out. i didn’t mean to make anybody worry._

_yeah, we’re okay._

_-_

Hero offered three times to ask if Bea could stay for dinner as well, but she refused each time.

“I’ll meet them at your wedding,” She insisted, waving her off, “They want to get to know _you_ , not me. Are you going to need a ride home?”

“No thank you, Claud can bring me,” Hero reached into the back seat for the perfectly decorated pile of brownies. “Besides, won’t you be out with Ben tonight?”

“No,” Bea replied carefully, “I’ve got a lot of homework to do.”

“Well, I’ve left a few brownies at home for you and Leo,” Hero told her, slipping out of the car and waving pleasantly, “see you tonight!”

“Say hi to Claud for me,” Bea called after her, “And they better appreciate your brownies!”

-

Ben wasn’t waiting for her by her locker at school the next morning, and Bea was surprised to find that she was disappointed. When she saw him in physics, he waved to her, but didn’t come over to say hi. She had no idea what was going on with him, and she hated not knowing where she stood.

They were the first two to get to their lunch tables, and she hovered awkwardly for a moment before asking, “can I sit with you?”

“If you want to,” He said. There was no hint of bitterness, no sign of anger, which only confused Beatrice even more.

“What’s going on with you?” She asked, harsher than she meant to.

“Nothing, Bea. Honestly.” He shrugged at her. “I’m just trying to match your level of investment, that’s all. Your ‘emotional output’, or whatever. It’s fine if you don’t want to tell me what’s going on with you – that’s your business. I respect that. I’m just going to do the exact same thing, that’s all.”

“Ben –” She began, but Meg and Robbie joined them at the table, so she fell silent. As the others joined them, Benedick carried on chatting like nothing at all was wrong, but Beatrice couldn’t find it in her to join in any of their conversations.

“Are you alright?” Ursula leaned over and whispered about halfway through lunch, “I’ve never seen you so quiet.”

“Yeah,” She mumbled, “I guess I just still feel a little off from yesterday.” Ursula looked her up and down.

“You do look a little pale. Maybe you should go to the nurse,” She suggested, before turning her attention back to the conversation at hand – a debate between Ben and Hero about the best types of tea. (Ben firmly on team English Breakfast, Hero representing team Lemon Lift.)

She didn’t wind up going to the nurse, but she did leave lunch early. She slipped into the library and spent the rest of her time studying, half expecting Ben to turn up at any moment searching for her. He didn’t, and the weird feeling in her stomach worsened. If this was what having feelings for someone was like, she hated it.

She knew he had football practice after school, so she had plenty of time to bring Hero home and do some strategic planning.

“Ben said his favorite tea was the breakfast kind, right?” She asked, rifling through one of their many boxes of tea, filled with all different flavors. Hero peered over her shoulder, nodding.

“He also mentioned he was pretty fond of Earl Grey,” She added helpfully, “but that was after you’d left the table.”

“Great.” Bea pulled three of each kind from the tea box. She picked up one of the smaller tins – a blue one – and turned to Hero. “How attached are you to this box? And do you still have those fancy metallic sharpies?”

“You can have the tin – and I think I still have those markers upstairs,” She studied Bea’s expression, searching for something. “What are you planning, cousin of mine?”

“I think Ben’s upset with me for yesterday,” She explained, “I thought I’d try to make up for it with a present.”

“Oh, well, that’s really sweet, Bea,” Hero said, biting her lip nervously, “but presents aren’t a stand-in for an apology.”

“I’m not even totally sure what I _did_ ,” Beatrice admitted. “How can I apologize for something I’m not even sure I did?”

“Well, you just have to ask him about it,” Hero coached. “You’ve got to have an honest and open dialogue. If you acknowledge you’ve upset them and you’re genuinely sorry about it, that’s half the battle.”

“Do you and Claudio have an ‘honest and open dialogue’?” Beatrice asked, grabbing the silver sharpie and hunching over the blue tin.

“Yes, I think we do,” Hero smiled affectionately, “We’re completely honest with each other about everything. It’s the best thing about our relationship, I think.” She leaned across the counter and studied Beatrice’s artwork.

“What are you even drawing?” She asked, frowning.

“It’s a _work in progress_ ,” Beatrice defended, shielding her work with her free arm, “and I never claimed to be an artist!”

“Well…it’s the thought that counts,” Hero comforted. “Lead with the apology, end with the present. That’s my two cents, anyway.”

-

She got to his house before him, so she sat on his doorstep and waited. When he did show up, fifteen minutes after her, he had Pedro and Claudio in tow.

“Beatrice,” He greeted, brows lifted in surprise, “What are you doing here?”

“Hey, Bea,” Pedro greeted, and Claudio waved.

“Hi, guys.” She stood up, arms crossed. “I’m sorry if you had plans, but my _dearest love_ and I need to have a chat.”

“I drove them here,” Ben pointed out, “they don’t have a ride home.”

“Here,” She tossed her keys to Pedro, “when I left, Hero was baking a cake. I think she was trying to make Tiramisu. You guys can take my car, and Ben can just drop me off later.”

“Hard to resist Tiramisu,” Pedro said, catching the keys, “you in, Claud?”

“Sure. I’ll text Hero.” He patted Ben on the shoulder on his way to the car. “Good luck, man.”

“So,” Ben stood with his hands in his pockets, kicking at the gravel in the driveway, “what’s up?”

“Can we go inside?” She asked, and he passed her wordlessly, unlocking the door. She followed him in. “I just wanted to apologize. For yesterday.”

He sat at the kitchen table and looked at her expectantly.

“I’m listening.”

“I’m sorry for leaving without saying goodbye, and for taking so long to text you back. I just –”

“Wait, Bea – stop. You think I’m mad because you didn’t text me back right away?”

“Aren’t you?” She asked, suddenly unsure. He scoffed.

“I’m not Claudio. I know you’ve got your own life.” Beatrice sank into the chair across from him, dumbstruck.

“Then why –”

“I’m mad because you don’t even treat me like your _friend_ half the time, never mind your boyfriend. I know it’s fake, but still. Half the time, you’re only nice to me in front of other people, and even that’s just to prove something. I don’t mind that you didn’t text me back right away yesterday – I mind that you were obviously upset about something, and you didn’t feel like you could _tell_ me.” He was looking right at her, but she couldn’t bring herself to look back at him. “I mean, forget this whole fake relationship thing for a minute – are we even friends?”

“We’re friends,” She said, wounded, “Of course we’re friends.”

“Really? Because friends can tell each other things, like why they’re upset or why they ran away without saying anything,” He reprimanded. “I’m annoyed that our friends went behind our backs and tried to play with our feelings too, and I know it can be weird when they make comments about us and our so-called relationship, but you can’t just shut me out. We’re kind of a team, aren’t we? We’re supposed to have each other’s backs.”

“I – I’m sorry,” She stammered. “I don’t know what else to say. I didn’t mean to shut you out. I didn’t realize how much it would hurt you. Obviously – obviously that wasn’t my intention. I’m just – I’m not really very good at the whole _feelings_ thing, okay? Even just as far as friends go. It’s hard for me to share how I’m feeling with anybody, even Hero. I’m not – I’m not _good_ at it.”

“And that’s okay,” He assured her, “I’m not super great at it either. You just have to at least _try_.”

“Okay,” She said, finally lifting her gaze to meet his, “I can do that. I can try to be better.”

“That’s all I ask,” He said. “Should we – should we hug it out, or something?”

“Um,” She faltered, “I guess so? Friends hug, right?”

“Right.”

When they leaned in for the hug, though, Beatrice’s purse hung between them, and the wrapped tea tin knocked into Ben’s leg.

“Oh! I forgot,” She jumped back, reaching into the bag, “I brought you a present. In case the apology alone didn’t work.”

“Really?” He asked, taken aback, “You bought me a present?”

“Made you one’s more like it,” She admitted, handing it to him. It was wrapped in the comics section from the newspaper – the only wrapping paper Hero had on hand was light pink and had _‘congratulations!’_ scrawled on it, leftover from her parents wedding.

He ripped it open and stared at the silver outlines on the blue tin.

“I know, it’s pretty terrible,” Beatrice immediately jumped in, “I’m a pretty shit artist, really. But it’s –”

“The Tardis?” He asked, looking up, “You drew me the Tardis?”

“Well – Doctor Who is your favorite, right?” She shrugged. “Open the box.”

He did. Lined up perfectly, there were six teas all in a row: three English Breakfast, and three Earl Grey. On top of it was a note that read: _hopefully this will stop the Queen of England from scissor kicking me in the face._

“So you can have tea in the Tardis,” She explained lamely. “It’s stupid.”

“It’s not stupid,” He declared, “it’s great. And I’ve already put in the call to the Queen of England to officially pardon you for all tea-related slander.”

“Good, I’ll sleep better at night knowing that,” She said. “So, um. Do you want to come over to my house? If we hurry, there should still be some Tiramisu left for us.”

“Are you asking because you gave Pedro your car and you need a ride home, or because you genuinely want to hang out with me?”

“It’s close enough that I could walk, if I wanted,” She reminded him. “I did it all the time when we were fourteen.”

“So that means you genuinely want to hang out with me,” He grinned. “See? It’s a good thing I can read between the lines.”

“Pedro’s probably halfway through with that cake,” Beatrice warned.

“Sorry, sorry. We’re going.”

-

The football team had a game that Saturday, so Hero enlisted Beatrice to help her make signs and t-shirts to show their support.

“You want me to wear a shirt with his name and number on it?” Bea demanded, horrified, “Come on, Hero, don’t you think that’s a little much?”

“I think it’ll be fun and sweet,” Hero said, dumping a bucket of fabric markers onto the floor between them, “I think Ben will be really touched by it.”

“Fine,” Bea whined, “But only on one condition.”

 -

When they arrived at the game, fully decked out in their new shirts and carrying glittery posters – one for each of their friends on the team – Ursula had already set up a blanket for them. Hero set to work immediately, laying out all of the snacks she’d brought.

“Nice shirts,” Ursula commented, gesturing to their backs, which boasted Claudio and Ben’s last names and their respective numbers.

“Don’t remind me that I’m wearing this, _please_ ,” Beatrice pleaded, reaching for a cookie, “I know it’s stupid.”

“I don’t think it’s stupid,” Ursula said, setting up her camera, “I think it’s nice that you’re in a mutually supportive relationship.”

That was enough to shut Bea up for a while.

-

The game was neck and neck nearly the whole time, a complete deadlock, and Beatrice caught herself yelling, cheering, and getting altogether too invested on more than one occasion. But in the end, their team won, and they all rushed to meet the boys on the field.

“What a game!” Ben was shouting, jumping all around, slapping Pedro on the back, “That was a great last goal, man, really!”

“Good game, dickface,” Beatrice commended, smiling warmly at him.

“Nice shirt,” He replied, grinning like an idiot. And maybe it was just the rush of winning that made Ben feel bolder, or maybe he just saw it as a good opportunity, but he grabbed her by the waist and kissed her – with _tongue_ – in front of everybody.

“Speaking of the shirt –” Beatrice tried to ignore how red she’d turned and reached into her bag, “If I have to subject myself to wearing one of these, so do you.”

It was a plain white shirt, like hers, but on the back it said “DUKE” in big, sparkly green letters.

“I shall wear it with pride,” He declared dramatically, immediately pulling off his jersey. Bea had to force herself to look elsewhere until he put on the new shirt. He put his arm around her shoulder, beaming. “How do we look? Match made in heaven?”

“Match made in _something_ ,” Claudio snickered.

“Oh, don’t you laugh,” Hero warned, handing him a shirt of his own, “You get to wear one, too.”

“Lucky me,” He teased, leaning over to kiss her forehead.

“Where’s _my_ Duke shirt?” Leo demanded, coming over to join them.

“We’ll make you a Coach Duke shirt for the next game,” Hero promised.

“In that case, you’re all invited out for victory burgers with the team.” Leo reached over and ruffled Hero’s hair, earning an eye-roll from Beatrice. “If you want to come, that is.”

Meg agreed on behalf of everyone, and they all piled into each other’s cars, honking and hollering out the windows to each other the whole way.

-

The video Ursula posted that day showed the kiss that Ben planted on Bea. It was the most views any of their videos had ever gotten, which Bea pointedly tried not to think about. For her own channel, she and Hero did another Q&A, with Beatrice making sure to avoid any questions at all about Benedick.

-

On Sunday morning, Ben showed up unannounced and declared that he and Beatrice would be making pancakes for everyone. She only protested minimally – she’d just woken up, she hadn’t even showered yet – but ultimately, they wound up side by side in the kitchen, taking turns doling out batter and manning the spatula. Leo even said they were some of the best pancakes he’d ever had, if you were willing to eat around the raw parts.

Afterwards, Ben and Hero cleaned the kitchen while Bea showered and dressed for the day. Hero asked if they wanted to come out to lunch with her and Claudio, but Ben declined, claiming he’d already made plans for a day out, just him and Beatrice. Hero thought that was adorable, of course, so she dropped her invitation all together and sent them off with a tin of cookies she’d made the night before.

“Do you really have a plan?” Beatrice asked skeptically, once they were in Ben’s car and seemingly driving nowhere.

“Not really,” He admitted, “But I think Claud’s sick of us crashing their dates, and it’s easier for me to say no to Hero than it is for you.”

“True,” Beatrice sighed, “I can’t resist that adorable face of hers.”

“I guess it runs in your family,” Ben said, and before Bea could fully process what he meant by that, he’d moved on: “Anywhere in particular you want to go? First place that pops into your head – go!”

“The beach,” She said automatically, and Ben immediately pulled a U-Turn. Beatrice braced herself on the dashboard, staring at him in a blind panic. “I want to be _alive_ to see it!”

“Sorry!” He said cheerily, “At least there were no birds this time.”

-

“You know what strikes me as odd?” Beatrice asked, as they wandered along the shore, “How weirdly supportive Pedro is of our fake relationship. Well – real to him, fake to us.”

“Why? They’re all like that,” Ben reminded her, pausing to pick up a particularly interesting rock.

“Yeah, but,” Bea dropped her voice, as though there were anyone around to overhear, “did you know that he asked me out awhile back?”

“Yeah, I saw that video,” He admitted. “Just out of curiosity – why didn’t you say yes?”

“To Pedro?” Bea wrinkled her nose, pulling a face, “Because he’s… _Pedro_. I mean, he’s a great guy and all, but I’ve just never thought of him that way. He’s not really my type. He always winds up taking my side in things when we argue – he never really cares to defend his point of view, I guess. It’s like he’d rather just agree with whatever I’m saying to make peace and move on. There’s no fun in debating him. Does that make any sense?”

“Sure,” Ben nodded, “I can see how that’d be boring.”

“And now he’s all about you and me together,” She went on, “first with that Love Gods thing, and then just in general, all the time, always making comments.”

“Maybe he genuinely thinks we’re a better pair than he and you would’ve been,” Ben suggested, “Maybe he realized all those things you’ve just said.”

“Maybe,” Beatrice echoed. They walked on in silence for a while, occasionally stopping so Ben could pick up a rock or a shell that he found to be fascinating. He kept slipping them into his pockets, until they grew so heavy his jeans started to droop.

“Give them to me,” Beatrice held her open bag out to him, “before you wind up walking the beach in your boxers.”

“Should we do a vlog together, or something?” Ben asked abruptly, as he unloaded his pockets, “I mean, is it weird that we _haven’t_? My viewers won’t shut up about you.”

“They have good taste, then,” She quipped.

“Of course they do – they’re _my_ viewers,” He retorted. “Seriously, though. Ursula already posted a video of us kissing. So if we were trying to keep it a secret from the internet, the secret’s out.”

“I know, and I could kill her,” Beatrice threw her hands up, exasperated. “Who does she think she is, posting that without even asking me?”

“Hate to be the voice of reason here, Bea,” Ben winced, “But didn’t you and I do sort of the same thing to Claud and Hero, telling all of youtube about their crushes?”

“That was different,” Bea argued, “That was – I mean, they _actually liked_ each other, first of all, which is –” Ben raised a brow at her, and she faltered, defeated. “Which is… worse, I guess.”

“Just a little,” He agreed.

Beatrice sighed, grabbing a fistful of pebbles and letting them slide through her hands.

“Fine,” She said, “We’ll vlog together for my channel this Wednesday.”

-

After the beach, it was Ben’s turn to pick someplace. Bea found herself hoping he’d pick somewhere they’d run into someone they knew, so they’d have an excuse to touch. She hated herself for feeling that way – stupid traitor heart.

“Where are we going?” Beatrice asked, when she looked around and realized she didn’t recognize any of the places they were passing, “Should I be concerned you’re going to murder me?”

“You’ll like it,” He said, then paused to reconsider. “…Probably.”

The surprise location wound up being an ice skating rink, which Bea confirmed she did, indeed, like. There was a minor squabble over paying the rental fees – Bea insisted on paying for him, since he was the one driving and spending gas money, but Ben insisted he should pay, since it was his idea. Finally, the settled on paying separately – the only solution that made them both happy.

Despite insisting that he was a champion ice skater when he was a kid, Ben was pretty wobbly when he got onto the ice. At first, Beatrice delighted in skating circles around him, but after the third time he fell, she took pity on him.

“Come here, dumbass,” She said amiably, taking his arm and helping him up, “you’re going to crack your thick skull open and bleed all over the ice. You’ll ruin everyone’s day.”

“I _used_ to be good at this,” He insisted. “I didn’t think you could forget how to skate.”

“You’re just out of practice.” Beatrice dusted ice shavings off of his shoulder, and hooked her elbow with his, leading him around the rink.

After the third or fourth lap together, Ben seemed to have gotten the hang of it, but neither of them made the move to detach from the other until the rink was closed for the day.

-

Bea fell asleep on the car ride home, and she looked so peaceful that Ben circled past her house three times before waking her up.

-

Hero, Claudio, and Leo had just finished making dinner when Ben dropped Bea off, so staying just seemed like the natural thing for him to do. Hero was already setting a place for him at the table before he could even accept the offer. After dinner, Leo went out with some of his friends, leaving them with a stern lecture on ‘appropriate behavior’, reminding them that he could come back at any moment, so they should avoid doing anything they would be embarrassed for him to catch them doing.

“God, Leo,” Beatrice complained, “It’s not like we’re going to have an orgy the second you walk out the door.” Hero swatted at her, and Leo’s face went pale.

“Just – be good,” He said awkwardly, leaving them alone.

“You shouldn’t tease him, Bea,” Hero chided, “he’s just looking out for us.”

“He should trust us a little more,” Beatrice argued, “ _He’s_ more freaked out about us being alone with boys than my own parents ever were.”

“So you were alone with boys a lot when you lived with your parents?” Ben asked, amused.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Beatrice stuck her tongue out, tossing a throw pillow at him.

“Now, now, children,” Hero grabbed the pillow before Ben could consider throwing it back, “Why don’t we pick a movie to watch? I’ll make the popcorn.”

Picking the movie was another debate entirely, and one that lasted for well over twenty minutes. By the time they’d decided ( _The Princess Bride_ – which, as Hero put, was the only movie that combined everyone’s favorite things), they’d already finished the first bowl of popcorn, and Beatrice had to make more.

When she returned to the room, Hero and Claudio had spread out on the couch, and Ben had taken the only other spot that wasn’t the floor – a big easy chair.

“Scooch over,” She demanded, swatting at Hero’s feet.

“But I’m comfy here,” Hero batted her eyes up at Beatrice innocently, “the chair is big enough for two.”

“Barely! I’ll be sitting on him!” Beatrice argued.

“So?” Claudio prompted.

“So – I’ll crush him,” She argued weakly.

“Pfft! Not likely,” Ben interjected.

“Ugh,” Bea swatted at Hero’s feet one more time before unceremoniously dropping herself onto Ben’s lap, “hate you.”

“Love you,” She replied merrily, starting the movie.

-

It took them awhile to find a comfortable position, but – and Beatrice would never admit it, not even under penalty of death – it was nice, sitting on Ben’s lap. She was sitting sort of sideways, curled up, her knees resting against his chest and her head on his shoulder. He had one arm around her waist, and his free hand holding hers. It was the longest they’d ever been in such close contact – almost every part of her was touching him in some capacity – and she was glad that Hero turned the lights out for the movie, because it made her feel like her skin was about to set fire, and she was absolutely positive she was in a permanent state of blushing.

“You’re sure I’m not crushing you?” She whispered.

“You’re fine,” He promised.

“Will you tell me if I _do_ start crushing you?”

“Absolutely not,” He vowed, “Watch the movie.”

-

Benedick showed up at her house on Tuesday to film their vlog wearing the ‘Duke’ shirt she’d made him.

“I thought it’d be fun it we both wore them,” He said, “You know – cute and couple-y.”

“Yeah, because being cute is my biggest aspiration,” Bea deadpanned – but she did wind up changing into her ‘Hobbes’ shirt. She set up the camera in the living room, pressing record and joining him on the couch.

“So,” She began, “I’m assuming from the comments we’ve both been getting, most of you guys have seen Ursula’s video. Which means you’ve probably gathered that Benedick and I are…dating.”

“Yup,” Ben turned around to show off the back of his shirt, taking Bea by the shoulders and manually turning her around to show off hers as well, “It’s been a little over two weeks now.”

“You’re probably asking yourselves, _‘Beatrice, how did this happen? What happened to all that inspirational talk about you not needing a boyfriend?’_ ”

“Or you might be saying, _‘Hey, Ben, what about what you said about relationships ruining friendships and being a general waste of time?’_ ” He chimed in.

“And, well, on the whole, I think we both still stand by that,” Beatrice paused, glancing at Ben to see if he agreed. He nodded. “But I guess, what we’ve found is… there are exceptions to every rule. Exceptions like… this.” She gestured vaguely between them.

“Beautifully put, dearest,” Ben encouraged.

“But we’re not going to get all gross and sappy on you, like Claud and Hero have,” She promised. “We have standards. And shame.”

“She does, maybe,” Benedick jerked his thumb at her, “Me, however? Totally shameless. Life is much more freeing that way.”

“Freeing how? What are you _free_ to do that you couldn’t if you had any shame?”

“Great question, Beatrice! For example, this.” He took her face in his hands and kissed her. She let it go on just a beat longer than she thought she should before pulling away from him.

“Well,” She said sheepishly, turning back to the camera, “That’s probably more than enough of that. Til next time, guys.”

“See you back on the Ben show!” He waved. Beatrice reached over and shut it off, resting it on the coffee table.

“I’ll edit it tonight and have it up before school tomorrow.”

“Cool.” Ben drummed his fingers absently on the table. “Hey, do you want to grab a pizza or something? I won’t even offer to pay for you this time.”

“Sure,” Beatrice agreed easily. She paused. “Did you bring a different shirt? I’m sure you could borrow one of Leo’s, if you want.” Ben frowned, confused.

“Why would I bring a different shirt?”

“I don’t know – maybe because this one has my name on it? Doesn’t that embarrass you?”

“Bea, if the thought of being with you – or people thinking that I’m with you – embarrassed me, I wouldn’t have even agreed to fake date you,” He said seriously. “Wait, why? Are _you_ embarrassed to have people think we’re together?”

“No!” She protested, “No, well – not of _you,_ specifically. That people think I’m dating _anybody_.”

“Since when do you care what people think?” He asked.

“I _don’t_ ,” She insisted. “I don’t care what anybody thinks.”

“So that settles it,” He said simply, “We’re both wearing our embarrassing shirts out for pizza.”

“Why not,” She surrendered, “The whole internet’s already seen it anyway.”

-

On Saturday, they all went to Balthazar’s house for a potluck dinner and movie night. (Everyone was _supposed_ to bring a different dish, but they wound up with a lot of pasta and dessert. Apparently, their collective culinary skills were… pretty limited.) Sometime after dinner, before they’d picked the first movie of the night, Bea noticed Ben was nowhere to be seen, so she sought him out.

“Ben? Are you vlogging in the bath again?” She asked, rapping against the door.

“Come in,” He called back, so she did. He was in the tub.

“Hullo, love,” He greeted brightly, “care to join me?”

“No way there’s enough room for both of us,” She eyed the tub skeptically.

“Sure there is. Come on, hop on in,” He encouraged, trying to make as much room as possible.

“What even is my life,” She huffed under her breath, slipping off her shoes. She sat on the lip of the tub, swung her legs over –

and immediately fell directly on top of Ben. Both of them dissolved into fits of laughter – their legs were tangled together, and she was bracing herself with one hand on his chest. His arm was around her waist and his hand was dangerously close to her backside, though to his credit, it did not venture any lower.

“You certainly know how to make an entrance, don’t you, darling?” He commended.

“Shut up,” She laughed, “You’re the one who’s locked away, vlogging in the weirdest place possible. You missed it – Meg was all proud of herself because she said she’d swiped a bottle of wine from her parents, but it was _cooking_ wine, and now they’re all trying to decide if it’s worth drinking. Why’d you leave?”

“Just had some stuff I had to work out,” He admitted, shrugging sheepishly, “Nothing to worry about.”

“Should I go?”  Bea glanced at the camera, but made no move to leave.

“No,” He said, too quickly, “No, stay. Make a vlog with me.”

“What’s it about?” She asked.

“Little of this, little of that – plans for world domination, mostly,” He rattled off casually.

“Ah, of course,” She gave a solemn nod, “ _Those_ plans.”

“Here, how about I interview you?” He cleared his throat, launching in before she could respond. “Question one: how does it feel to have landed the hottest guy at Messina? To have tamed the untamable wild stallion? To –”

“Careful, Ben, I can see your head getting bigger. Wouldn’t want it to explode.” She tapped her finger against his temple. “Check that ego.”

“Fine. I’ll rephrase. Though I’m offended you aren’t defending my title as the hottest guy at Messina.” He paused, giving her ample room to jump in and agree. She merely quirked a brow, waiting. “Fine then – what’s the best thing about dating me?”

“Who says there’s a best thing?” She teased.

“Ah, isn’t she sweet,” He said, directly into the camera.

“Only teasing, _sweetheart,_ ” She reached up and pinched his cheek. “Okay, the best thing about dating you. Hmm. The best thing about dating Ben is…” She thought about making a joke, but he was looking at her so earnestly, so expectantly, that she decided to be sincere. “Well, he’s really patient with me. I’m not big on being open with my feelings – unless they’re, you know, _anger_ feelings – and he doesn’t try to change that. He just waits for me to be ready to say whatever I have to say.”

“Wow, Bea,” He faltered, at a loss, “I –”

“That,” she cut him off, “and he’s a truly terrible ice skater, which makes me look great by comparison. I’m changing my answer to that.”

“So you’d say it’s going well, then?” He asked. Beatrice couldn’t pinpoint it exactly, but something about Ben’s demeanor had shifted.

“Yeah,” She nodded, first at the camera, then at Ben, “Yeah, I’d say it’s going well. Wouldn’t y-”

He kissed her. It was different from their other kisses – and not just because she was practically lying on top of him. This kiss was slower, more lingering. The others had been quick and rushed and frantic, but this one – this one was like a slow burn. She got lost in it.

She shifted slightly, her knee between his legs, and it was only then that she realized he was hard.

“Whoa,” She pulled back in surprise, eyes wide, “whoa-ho-hoa, oh wow. Oh boy. Um – wow. Okay. Wow. I’m just – I’m gonna – I’m gonna go.”

“Bea, wait –” He called, but she was already up and out of the tub.

“I’ll, um, I’ll just – bye.”

-

When he came downstairs a few minutes later, he didn’t even bother looking for her. Everyone else was cramped in Balthazar’s living room, absorbed in a movie.

“Bea gone?” He asked dryly.

“Yup,” Meg replied, eyes never even leaving the screen, “but at least she said goodbye this time.”

-

They hadn’t spoken since she ran from the bathroom, but they’d already made plans to meet up at the mall on Sunday to shop for Hero. He wouldn’t have been surprised if Beatrice ditched it entirely, if she was so freaked out that she never spoke to him again, but he figured he’d at least go and find out.

She wasn’t at the food court, which was their designated meeting place. He checked his watch – he was already five minutes late, so if she wasn’t here _now_ , she probably wasn’t coming. That was it - he’d scared her off forever. _Well,_ he figured, _it was only a matter of a time_. He waited two more minutes before leaving.

He practically walked right into her on his way out – she was standing by the front doors, checking her phone. When she saw him, she frowned.

“You’re late,” She accused.

“Am not,” He shot back, “You’re not even at the right meeting place! I was waiting in the food court.”

“Why would I meet you in the food court? We agreed to meet by the front doors. Because that just makes sense.”

He considered debating her further, but thought better of it. There were more pressing issues to attend to.

“Listen, Bea, about last night –”

“Oh God, no,” She held up a hand to stop him, “Let’s – let’s just never speak of that again. It never happened.”

“I was just going to say that it had nothing to do with _you_ ,” He said, “It would’ve happened with anybody who was kissing me like that.” Bea took a step back, thoroughly appalled.

“Kissing _you_ like that? You were the one who kissed _me_ like that!”

“What, are you kidding? You climbed all over me getting in to that tub. You _literally_ threw yourself at me!”

“In your _dreams,_ Ben. I was in _mid-sentence_ and you just started kissing me out of _nowhere_ –”

“I most certainly did not, and even if I did, _you’re_ the one who said it takes two to kiss! You were definitely kissing back.”

“I was definitely _not_ kissing you back,” she snapped, “you’re deluded.”

“I have the footage to prove it!” He reminded her, “You’re missing the point! The point is that what happened was a completely _normal, natural_ reaction. It’s just – it’s basic anatomy! It’s how bodies work!”

“I know how bodies work!” She practically roared, “My God, Ben, can we just – can we _please_ just stop talking about your huge fucking boner? Because I’m done with this conversation and I’m done with it _forever._ ”

Ben couldn’t stop himself. He tilted his head, face smug.

“Huge, huh?”

“Oh my _God_ , that is not what I meant and you _know_ it,” She stormed past him. “And if you say one more word, I am going to punch your face in.”

He didn’t push his luck, and they made a conscious effort to leave a foot of space between them at all times.

-

Hero and Leo were out when she got home, so she felt safe making another never-to-be-posted video.

“As far as this thing with Ben goes… I have actively decided to give no fucks,” She said. “I can’t – I can’t even expend the energy trying to analyze everything that boy says or does. Who could keep up? So I’m just choosing not to care. It is what it is. Whatever that is.”

She paused.

“And what did he mean by that, anyway?”  She demanded, suddenly angry, “When he said that thing about _‘it had nothing to do with you’_? So, fine, whatever, obviously he doesn’t care about the fact that he was kissing _me_ , he just cares that he was kissing _someone_. Which – whatever. I don’t care. I mean, for a second there, I thought maybe he felt – but he doesn’t, so. Whatever.”

Another pause.

“Sometimes I forget that we’re faking,” She confessed. She stared right into the camera, as though it could reply. “That’s probably bad, right?”

She groaned, curling up on the bed. She lay there for a few minutes before reaching up to shut the camera off.

-

“Did you guys know that there’s a holiday this weekend?” Hero asked at lunch the next day, eyes bright.

“You’re right, Hero,” Meg agreed heartily, “there _is_ a holiday this weekend!”

“No there’s not,” Bea frowned, “what holiday are you talking about?”

“Ah,” Pedro locked eyes with Hero and nodded, “I almost forgot. _That_ holiday.”

“Possibly the most important holiday any of us have had so far,” Ursula said seriously.

“What are you _talking_ about?” Beatrice demanded. She turned to Ben expectantly. “Do you have any idea what they’re talking about?”

“Nope,” He said, “I’m just as confused as you are.”

“You two are really terrible at this,” Claudio said, shaking his head with disapproval.

“It’s your one month anniversary!” Meg crowed happily, grabbing Bea’s hands in her own. “I can’t believe you forgot.”

“I can’t believe you _care,_ ” She countered, pulling her hands away.

“Of course we care, silly,” Hero seemed puzzled, “We’re your friends. Not to mention family, in our case.”

“Yeah, but – it’s a _month,_ ” Bea frowned, “if we don’t care, why should you?”

“I think it’s worth celebrating,” Balthazar snickered, “a month in, and you two still haven’t killed each other.”

“You guys didn’t make this big of a deal for Hero and Claudio’s one month,” Bea grumbled. “Or Meg and Robbie’s, for that matter.”

“That’s because we’re not as fun to tease,” Meg cooed, turning to give Robbie a kiss, “we don’t get all flustered the way you do.”

“True,” Claudio granted, “you guys make it easy to tease you.”

“With _love_ , of course,” Hero was quick to add.

“Well, Ben and I will be doing absolutely nothing to celebrate our ‘one month anniversary’ because that is a very stupid thing to celebrate,” Beatrice said definitively, “so we can drop this and move on with our lives, thank you.”

“What if I want to celebrate it?” Ben asked, turning to look at her, “I mean – don’t you think I should get a say?”

“What, suddenly you’re all about celebrating stupid milestones that don’t even really mean anything?” She accused. “First of all, it’s not even an accurate statement. _Anniversaries_ happen once a year, so by default –”

“Don’t call it an anniversary, then,” He said simply, “just call it a month of being together. What if I want to celebrate it? What’s wrong with that?”

“What’s wrong with it is that it’s stupid. It’s stupid to celebrate anything that isn’t an _actual_ anniversary.” Beatrice barely noticed that the others had fallen silent, all of them watching she and Benedick with rapt attention. “Why are we even still talking about this?”

“Because you aren’t even considering what I might want, you’re just making the decision yourself without even considering my feelings,” He was near yelling now, “Just like every decision you’ve made since we started this whole thing! It always has to be about what _you_ want. And every time I start to think you’re coming around, you go and –”

“Why do you even care? We’re not even really dating!” She blurted.

“Wait, what?” Hero asked, taken aback.

“Are you sure? Because you can call it fake all you want, but this – _whatever_ it is that we’ve been doing – feels a lot like dating to me,” Ben plowed on, completely disregarding the nervous glances everyone else at the table were exchanging. “The stuff you said at Meg’s party, the dates, those stupid t-shirts, that kiss –”

“You didn’t even _care_ that it was me you were kissing, you said so yourself!” She was standing now, fists clenched at her sides, “And you hate relationships, you think they’re stupid! You’ve said so since we were fourteen!”

“Me? _You’re_ the one who goes on and on about not needing anyone, and how you want to grow old and alone with a hundred cats!” Ben was standing toe to toe with her. “All you ever do is talk about how stupid you think relationships are, but you’re the one who started this whole thing! Don’t forget that _you_ asked _me_ to be your fake boyfriend, not the other way around.”

“Because I wanted to prove a point to our stupid meddling idiot friends,” She pulled at her hair, exasperated. “You were pissed, too! Remember that? You wanted to teach them a lesson, too!”

“My point is,” Ben was speaking calmly now, and somehow that was worse, “you’ve never _once_ considered _my_ feelings.”

“Just like _you_ didn’t consider _mine_ that summer,” She huffed. “Whatever. I’m out of here.”

“Me too,” He snapped.

“Whoa,” Meg said, looking from Beatrice to Benedick as they stormed off in opposite directions, “what the hell just happened?”

-

It was Ursula who found her, crying on the floor of the girl’s bathroom. She sat down next to her and didn’t say a word, just let Bea cry until there didn’t seem to be anything left in her. When she was done, Ursula handed her a wad of toilet paper.

“You guys must be so pissed at us,” She finally choked out, blowing her nose.

“A little bit,” Ursula nodded, “but you weren’t wrong to be mad about that whole Love Gods thing.”

“Yeah, that was a really dumb plan.” Bea wiped at her eyes with her shirt sleeve.

“Maybe,” Ursula admitted, “But I have to say, Bea – we’re all pretty confused. Why pretend to date? Why didn’t you guys just tell us you found the video?”

“I was just… so _mad_ ,” She said, “I wanted to show you guys how wrong you were.”

“That’s pretty petty of you.” Ursula was extremely matter-of-fact – there was no anger or accusation in her words.

“It was,” Beatrice agreed, “and that’s not even the worst part.”

“What’s the worst part?”

She could feel herself starting to cry again before she could even speak. Ursula passed her another wad of toilet paper and waited.

“The worst part,” She took a shakey breath, “is that you guys weren’t wrong. I really, really care about Ben.”

“Why didn’t you just tell him that in the first place?”

“Because,” Beatrice was emphatic, “that’s not who I am. I’ve never been that person. I don’t need a boyfriend.”

“Of course you don’t _need_ one,” Ursula said dismissively, “but it’s okay to _want_ one. It’s okay to _have_ one.”

“But –”

“Beatrice,” She said gently, “having a boyfriend doesn’t mean surrendering your independence. Letting someone know you have genuine feelings for them doesn’t make you weak.”

Beatrice didn’t have a comeback for that. Instead, she drew her knees up to her chest and rested her head on Ursula’s shoulder.

“At this point, Bea,” Ursula said quietly, “you’re just denying _yourself_ happiness.”

“It doesn’t matter, anyway,” Bea mumbled, “I’m pretty sure I’ve totally blown any chance of happiness Ben and I ever had together, after that fight. Besides – he doesn’t feel that way about me. He says so all the time.”

“Now you’re just being thick,” Ursula accused.

“I don’t think I can face everyone again. I’m such an idiot.”

“Yeah,” Ursula grabbed Bea’s hand and squeezed it lightly, “we still love you, though.”

-

Beatrice had never apologized so much in all her life. It seemed like everywhere she went, there was someone she needed to apologize to, or something she needed to apologize for. She apologized to everyone except the person she most needed to – Ben had been avoiding her all week. Though, to be fair, she hadn’t exactly been seeking him out. She’d been eating a lot of lunches in the library lately, a few of their friends eating with her at a time, alternating daily. She couldn’t look at him in physics – the one time she did peek over at him, he looked like he was having a staring contest with his textbook.

It wasn’t that she didn’t want to clear the air – she did. More than anything, she wanted things to go back to normal. But she couldn’t stand the thought of putting it all out on the line and having Ben reject her – whether it was romantically, or denying her his friendship. She wouldn’t blame him for either, honestly.

Hero had been sweeter than ever at home, constantly bringing Beatrice tea and goodies, making sure she was never alone too long.

“You’re too good to me,” Bea protested, when a third plate of cookies was presented, “I don’t deserve all this nice stuff.”

“Everyone makes mistakes,” Hero insisted. “The important thing is, you recognized yours. And I know how hard that can be for you.”

“Ben’s probably never going to speak to me again. I feel like I’ve used up all my apologies with him.”

“You never know unless you try,” Hero encouraged, but Beatrice wasn’t swayed.

“At this point, I feel like I should just leave him alone forever,” She said.

“Would making a video cheer you up?” Hero asked, voice hopeful, “It might be a nice distraction, and we did miss posting yesterday.”

“I’m not really up to vlogging right now,” Beatrice winced apologetically, “Maybe you could do another tutorial or something?”

“Sure,” Hero took the camera off of Bea’s desk and gave her one last sympathetic look, “We’ll do one together next week.”

-

When Hero was done with her tutorial, she uploaded everything from the camera onto her laptop. She scrolled to the top, trying to find the beginning of her video. To her surprise, there was footage of just Beatrice, alone in her bedroom. She frowned – she didn’t remember that video. Bea never recorded in her own room. Tentatively, she hit play.

 _“What do you do when you find yourself having… feelings… for the last person on earth you ever expected to fall for?”_ Beatrice was saying. Hero’s eyes widened. She scrolled through the files, and sure enough, found another clip of Beatrice.

_“Sometimes I forget that we’re faking. That’s probably bad, right?”_

She paused the video and immediately reached for her phone. If Beatrice had been vlogging about her feelings, then there was a good chance that Benedick was, too.

“Claud, it’s me. I know we all agreed no more meddling, but… what are the chances you can grab Ben’s camera without him knowing?”

-

Hero orchestrated the whole plan: they would all meet up at Pedro’s house on Sunday, telling Bea that Ben would be with his parents for a weekend trip, and promising Ben that Bea was spending the day with Leo working on a surprise for Hero’s birthday. Neither of them took much convincing – they’d both been down lately, and a distraction seemed welcome.

Ben showed up first, and was immediately ushered into Pedro’s bedroom and handed his laptop, already set up.

“What’s going on here?” He asked. When he saw Beatrice’s face on the screen, he pushed it away. “I’ve seen enough of her videos, I don’t need to see anymore.”

“Come on, Ben,” Pedro encouraged, “it’s important. Just watch it, okay? Watch it through once, and I’ll drop it forever.”

“Fine,” He groused, “But this is the last vlog of hers I’m ever watching.”

“Trust me, Ben,” Balthazar grinned, practically giddy, “that’s all it’ll take.”

“Come back out into the living room after you’ve watched it,” Pedro instructed, shutting the door behind him.

Beatrice turned up just minutes after Ben, and was escorted to the kitchen, where Hero’s laptop was set up.

“What’s up, guys?” She asked cautiously, looking from one beaming face to another, “Why are you all smiling like crazed serial killers?”

“We need you to watch this video,” Hero said, “it’s really important.”

She glanced at the laptop and noticed that it was Ben’s face staring back at her.

“Oh, guys, I don’t think –”

“Trust me,” Meg practically pushed Beatrice into the chair, “you’re gonna want to see this.”

“We’ll be in the living room – come find us when you’re done,” Ursula called over her shoulder, leaving Bea alone.

She took a breath, mentally steeling herself for whatever the video contained. She could only imagine it was a lot of terrible things about her – and it wasn’t like she could really fault him for that. All things considered, she’d been pretty terrible.

“Okay,” She muttered, “let’s get this over with.”

She pressed play.

 _“Fake dating has to mean something, right? I mean, I know that the whole point is to get back at our friends. But there are ways to do that that don’t include pretending to date each other. And the other day, at Meg’s party… I mean, I know that we were both a little drunk, but still. First, she kissed me –_ she _kissed_ me _– and then she told me I was a great fake boyfriend. Which means she thinks I’d be a great boyfriend… doesn’t it? And it’s not like I hadn’t thought about it. Us, together. I’ve thought a lot about it. I just didn’t think_ she’d _ever thought about it.”_

The clip ended, and another one started almost immediately. This time, he was sitting in the tub at Balthazar’s house, before Bea had come looking for him.

 _“I’ve been trying to figure out where I stand with Bea. I mean, those shirts she made – parading all around town wearing shirts with each other’s last names on the back? I know she thinks it’s stupid, but still, she made it and she wore it. That means something, doesn’t it? And then there’s the Tardis tea box. I didn’t ask her to make those things, she just… did it. We had a really great weekend together, too – the beach, ice skating, all that. None of our friends were there for that, but we still acted like a couple. It didn’t feel fake or forced at all. I forgot that it wasn’t real.”_ He was quiet for a while then, sitting alone in the tub, eyes never wavering from the camera. _“I want it to be real.”_

Then she heard herself, out of frame:

_“Ben? Are you vlogging in the bath again?”_

The video ended there.

She couldn’t move, at first. She stared at the screen, now black, trying to process it all. _He wanted it to be real._ When he yelled at her for failing to consider his feelings, she’d thought he meant his feelings of distaste for her – not genuine, romantic feelings. Feelings he thought she didn’t return.

She had to talk to him.

She burst into the living room, expecting to see their friends, but they were all mysteriously gone. Instead, she found Ben standing there, looking dazed.

“Benedick,” She sputtered, “I thought… everyone told me you were busy today.”

“They told me _you_ were busy,” He said. He was looking at her like he’d never seen her before.

“I saw your videos,” She told him, awkwardly shuffling from foot to foot, “Just now. They showed me.”

“They showed me yours, too,” He said. She took a tentative step towards him.

“Did you mean it?” She asked, forcing herself to be brave, “About wanting it to be real?”

He nodded.

“Did you mean what _you_ said?” He asked, “About having feelings for me?”

“I did,” She took another step towards him. “I _do_. Ben, I’m so sorry. I was –”

Before she could even process what was happening, he’d practically flown the rest of the distance between them, took her in his arms, and kissed her. From somewhere behind them, they could hear their friends whooping and clapping, and when she pulled away, she was pretty sure she spotted Ursula with her camera somewhere in the mix.

“I was going to say that I was wrong,” She finished. “Can you forgive me?”

“Was that not clear by the kiss?” He asked, “Because I’d be happy to do it again.”

“Please, spare us,” Balthazar called, rolling his eyes.

“Told you I’d explode your universe,” Ben murmured. Bea shoved him.

“Once a dickface, always a dickface.”

“Yeah, but you’re into it,” He said, and he kissed her again.


End file.
